Only You
by chaos-naga
Summary: You're the only one in this world that can touch my scars, Riff. An eavesdropper learns the truth about her Brother Dear's love.


**Warnings:** (implied) incest, mild language, lolicon, and spoilers (for those that have not read _Godchild_)

**Rating:** T

**Length:** 986 words (excluding title, forenotes, endnotes, and disclaimer)

**Only You**

"_You're the only one in this world who can touch my scars, Riff."_

Merriweather Hargreaves was no fool; her governesses, the ladies at court, and even her brother Cain knew that. She had incredible academic skills and an apathetically keen ability at absorbing knowledge. Hell, she was probably smarter than Cain. But today – today she felt like a fool.

She ran, blinded by near-tears. Why? Why couldn't she, as well? It wasn't fair! The child in her sobbed, but the outside was mercifully free of fettered emotions, the result of years of control. Wasted years.

Finally stopping to catch her breath, Merry took a look around. Typical, she smiled ruefully (her face once again the mask of perfect emotion); she had ended up in the Hargreaves tree grove. Cain had seduced many a woman here, and splendid parties had been hosted in this modest retreat to nature. The remains of one still littered the ground and the fresh dew made it seem quite picturesque for something so ugly.

Cain. She didn't want to think about him. There were, after all, "more fish in the ocean."

But Merry wanted Cain, and only Cain. The mask shattered.

-----

Merriweather! That dratted girl. Cain desperately ran through the hallways of his house, shoving legs into sleeves, and ignoring Riff's outcries at the "indecency." Indecency, his ass. Cain had rather indecent hobbies, anyway.

Although Merry was a clever girl, she had not counted on Cain's incredible perception. The man had heard the quiet, childish gasp and the pitter-patter of Patten-shoed feet. He had dropped the teacup – left Riff to clean it up, grabbed a spare pair of pants (hadn't even brought a belt nor suspenders to secure it), and been subject to earnest maids' cries of both scandal and pleasure in his chase of Merry.

He suspected that Merry had been, as always, eavesdropping onto his conversations with Riff. Of course she would have heard his remark about the scars. He couldn't lie: it was true that only Riff would touch the hated blemishes bestowed upon him by a "loving" father.

However, it wasn't true that Riff was the only one who _could_.

-----

Merry couldn't help herself, much as she tried – imagine, the indignity of being caught sobbing into a cherry tree and mussing up her white silk-and-chiffon. No, that wouldn't do. Sniffling, the girl tried her best to wipe away the tears with a handkerchief.

Tried, that is.

No use. She couldn't help but cry; at least she wasn't blubbering and throwing snot everywhere like a deranged idiot.

"Cain..." Merry sighed in ten-year-old rhapsody. There had been a show the other day at the Rose – what was it? Ah, yes, now she remembered: _Romeo and Juliet_. What a wonderfully stupid tragedy that had been. She couldn't understand what Cain saw in that play._ "Two households, both alike in dignity/In fair Verona, where we lay our scene..."_ Pathetic. Why couldn't the two have simply taken it more slowly, or even better, killed their kin to live in harmony? They were damned from the start by not fate, but their own foolishness.

Simply marvelous, now Merry was thinking in a much-too-macabre manner for her own good. Still, she couldn't help but quote (with, of course, her own substitution), "Cain, Cain, wherefore art thou? Deny thy father, refuse thy name..."

"What light through yon window breaks? It is my lady Merry," came the almost inaudible whisper and the girl whirled around, face still awash with fresh tear-streaks.

Cain stood there, panting heavily, without a shirt – pants not even properly fastened. Silly Cain – he couldn't do anything without Riff.

"...Did you hear me?"

-----

"...Did you hear the pitiful soliloquy, oh-so-dear Brother of mine?" Merry was once again sarcastic. It was, after all, her way of expressing anger. Cain himself could not think of a better way to express emotion at a court; sarcasm was often used and abused in their world.

"What is a soliloquy but a pitying of the soul, by the soul?" Cain replied easily as he tramped over to his sister, feet sinking into the warm and muddy earth. "Merry, did you perhaps overhear any mild conversations rather important to me today?" His tone implied anger, and Merry cringed.

"Of course not, dear Brother – it would be impetuous of me to do so, do you not agree?" Her cold, stiff reply was far from a ten-year-old girl's usual reply, but then again, Merriweather Hargreaves was no average ten-year-old girl.

"Merry..."

"No, Cain, I did not hear ANY conversation whatsoever between you and Riff discussing scars. Now, will you kindly leave me alone?" Merry turned away, biting her lip to prevent any more outbreaks of tears.

Cain felt his impulses act again – how odd, that only happened when he was courting the foolish daughters of barons – and placed a hand on Merry's quivering shoulder.

-----

Merry blinked, and then Cain had sunk to his knees to wrap his arms around Merry and bury his face into her thin shoulder. "What have they been feeding you? You're as thin as a stick," he murmured into her bony shoulder and Merry hoarsely giggled.

"Dear Brother, you who is naturally thin would, of course, share some traits with your sister." She didn't know yet. He wouldn't let her know. Right now, her happiness was more important than their family roots.

"But, as always, you will not share your pain with me." A pang of shock enveloped Cain and he felt Merry's tears dampen his already-wet hair. "Why? Why won't you?"

"...

"Because, darling Merriweather..." He let go of her and stood, tilting her chin upwards and meeting her clear, sky-blue orbs (filled with tears – beautiful tears that beckoned to be wiped away by his hand) with his own golden-green eyes.

"You are the only one in this world that has not been marred by my imperfection. You are perfect and untouched.

"You are my favorite doll."

**End**

**Author's Notes:** Thought of this as Kaos was re-reading _Godchild_ (vol. 1). Hope this meets up to Reader-san's expectations, and as always, thank you for reading – _yoroshiku onegaishimasu_!

Kaos does not own _Count/Earl Cain_ or _Godchild_.


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